


Duke's Diary

by fiery_day



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Diary/Journal, Gen, I lied, Learning to be a Vigilante, Talk of Death/Dying, all characters besides Duke are only mentioned, an oc died, fluff with a bit of angst, no one is actually dying though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-08
Updated: 2019-02-09
Packaged: 2019-10-24 12:41:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17704454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fiery_day/pseuds/fiery_day
Summary: This is a couple of journal entries by Duke as he learns to become Signal. He relates his thoughts on the batfamily and aspects of the vigilante life he now leads.





	1. May 12, 2XXX

**Author's Note:**

> So, I don't own anything Batman, DCU, or anything else. All characters are their respective owners.
> 
> This is my first fanfiction. Constructive criticism is always welcomed. I have no idea what cannon is, nor do I care.

Mom and Dad,

It feels like it’s been more than a year since I started to keep this journal. I saw you just a couple of days ago, but you—of course—didn’t recognize me. I know that I don’t always write as often as I probably should, but according to Black Canary—I know right?! I actually talked to her and everything! —I’m at least making some effort to _offload anxiety and stress in a healthy manner like a normal person unlike some people_. Those last words are her own; I would never have the guts to say that about the Waynes, even if behind their backs. They would find out somehow, someway. And I know she meant the Waynes with the way she glared at Oracle’s comm system.

I’m living in _the_ Wayne Manor now. I always feel the need to capitalize “manor” whenever I use it to reference Wayne Manor. And I just now realized that it would be correct grammar to do so as well because it’s a proper noun. Wow, do I feel dumb. Anyways…You always hear on the news about how large and grand and a million other words it is, but that’s nothing to how it feels to be inside the Manor itself. The first week I managed to get lost every day multiple times, but Alfred Pennyworth, the butler, always seemed to just know when I had gotten lost and would show up to point me in the right direction. I finally asked him if there was a tracker on me. All he did was raise an eyebrow. It was a bit disconcerting. Sometimes I think he is the scariest member of the Batfamily.

Not that any of them aren’t scary. Bruce Wayne is a mountain of pure muscle with a stoic expression and exacting presence. Dick Grayson may be the most personable of the family, but I still remember what happened with the We Are Robin group. He can be manipulative when he wants to be. Jason Todd will pick a fight with anyone and anything and makes jokes about his own death. Tim Drake is unassuming but then I remember he is one of the most influential people in the world; his connections can ruin my life. Cassandra Cain is able to fight _Batman_ to a stalemate, enough said. Stephanie Brown has the tenacity to make my life miserable through any blackmail she can find if I piss her off. Barbara Gordan…I don’t even want to think about it. Damian Wayne regularly tries to injure or kill his siblings. I’m not sure how they’ve managed to live and work together for any length of time if I’m being honest. 

Being trained to fight crime by these people means my head is literally about to explode from being taught to memorize gang members, villains and their methods, forensics, police procedure, laws, and whatever else the Bats decide is relevant to being a vigilante. And that doesn’t even touch the physical training. You would think, like myself, it would be mostly learning martial arts and weight training to build muscle. I was so wrong. I’m having to run five kilometers every morning for endurance, hold my breath underwater to increase the time my mind can go without oxygen before shutting down, refresh and refine my pick-pocketing skills, work on flexibility, and so much more. The crash course I got with the Robin crew is nothing compared to this. I usually fall into bed exhausted and with my muscles screaming at me just to wake up and do it all over again.

Some people think the Bats aren’t human. Those people are right, but it isn’t until you have to train with them or see them in action that you really realize how inhuman they are. Does Dick Grayson even have bones? Like, the shapes he twists himself into, how?! I don’t think I’ve ever seen Tim Drake asleep or more than ten feet away from a device that can connect to the internet. I can’t even manage one hit on Cassandra Cain when we spar. They are not human. They are androids copying human behavior like that one theory I read on the internet. The actual aliens I’ve met are more likely to be human than the Waynes.

I’ve got to go to sleep now. I can barely keep my eyes open and think straight. I know my handwriting is sure to be atrocious because of how tired and sore I am. For all I’ve complained, though, I’m happy here and to be able to make a difference. I want to be a man you would be proud to call your son and I hope my actions in the future will live up to that.

I love you and I miss you,

Duke

P.S. Maybe Black Canary is right, I do feel better after writing all that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited as of 18 September 2019. All that was edited was a few sentences in order to improve understanding and fixing a few spelling mistakes.


	2. June 14, 2XXX

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which it gets angsty.

Mom and Dad,

a couple weeks ago I wrote about my new foster— adopted? Everyone in Gotham assumes I’ll be adopted —family, the Waynes. I never knew how much they fight; I don’t think anyone in Gotham does. They seem to fight constantly at home, but in the presence of anyone not in know of the Bat secret, they act like almost nothing is wrong and they’re all happy with one another. It was a bit like experiencing whiplash the first time I saw it. I don’t even want to know the expression that was on my face when we were at some gala that Bruce dragged us to. I probably looked like a fish or a deer in headlights with the way I was staring. I mean, I’ve seen the fights between Damian and Tim; they can get pretty bloody when Damian pulls out a knife or has his sword on hand, but the minute they stepped out of the car they acted like any other siblings with a bit of a rivalry. The level of acting ability would have at least earned them a nomination for an Oscar if not the award itself.

Speaking of fighting, that’s something different also. I’ve now got more scars than I previously had put together. I had just climbed out of the shower one day and noticed all the scars I’ve collected. I knew logically each time I got injured that I might scar, but it wasn’t until I looked at myself in the mirror that I realized I’ll never be able to go to a public pool without wearing a shirt. I’ll never be able to show off my new six pack in public. At least the Waynes have their own pool. But my collection is no where close to the collection that the rest of the family have. Even Damian, who is younger than me, has more scars, but then again, he was raised by assassins. Bruce, the one time I saw him without his shirt on in the Cave, was a little horrifying to see. When the rest of the Bats told me armor wouldn’t be enough to protect me, I believed them straight away because of the number of scars each of them had. 

I’ve learned what happened to Jason and Damian. I knew when starting in the Robins crew that I would be putting myself in dangerous situations and could potentially be hurt, but I don’t think I really wrapped my head around the fact that I can die. It was, is… very sobering. I could die. I will most likely die. I could be crippled for life. I might become just another dead child to Bruce. It hit me hard about two weeks ago; I was playing a video game during my free time. Tim said that I kind of just sat there staring into space for close to twenty minutes. I can’t even remember what I did for the rest of the day, and when I went to bed, I had a nightmare of dying like Jason or Damian. I was stuck in an endless loop of being blown up and sliced open with a sword. I woke to my alarm with my heart beating out of my chest, and had to put my head between my knees in order to catch my breath. It scares me so much that I could die. I had several nightmares before I approached anyone. They all seem so…unbothered by the danger they face on a nightly basis. I don’t think I’ll ever reach that point. 

I eventually talked to Dick; he didn’t even try to reassure me that I wouldn’t die. Dick just hugged me and said that the family would try their best to prevent me from dying, but if I wanted to stop, I could do so at any time and still stay in the Manor. I struggled with—am sometimes still struggling with—the decision almost every waking minute; it was a constant buzz at the back of my head. I had to think about it for a week before I decided against it. More than the fear of dying, I want to be able to help innocent people from people like the Joker. No matter how scared I am at the thought of death, knowing that I am protecting someone from being hurt is worth it. When I told Dick this, he said that was also part of the reason he became Robin. He also said he is scared of dying, too, but he tries to ignore the feeling and concentrate on all the good that he does by being Nightwing.

Besides, at least I have a greater chance of being brought back to life, right? I mean only superheroes or villains are brought back from the dead. Unless it’s a zombie apocalypse. 

Speaking of Robin—ba-dum tiss—I do feel a bit odd that I will never hold the title. All of the Wayne boys, and Stephanie, have held the title, and I feel a little left out knowing that I will never hold the mantle. I mean, I was a part of the We Are Robin crew in which we all claimed to be Robin, but to never have the mantle bestowed on me? It’s just another way for me to feel like an outsider to the family. I’m not really even thinking of taking the mantle from Damian. Nor do I really want the title—I like my head where it’s at—but sometimes I feel so alone because of how everyone is already comfortable with their place and I’m just now discovering how I fit into the family and hero world. I know that Damian has only been with the family a couple of years and they accepted and adjusted to him, but I guess I’m a bit scared that I’ll always feel like an outsider and no one will reach out to me. I think part of it is just teenage angst that every adult ever complains about, but I feel off balance with the amount of change that has happened in the last couple months. I want to be accepted and fit in and get the inside jokes that they all have, but it’s not going to happen right away. That’s not to say the Waynes aren’t welcoming. They are. Just yesterday Bruce helped me with a bit of my math homework and Alfred made my favorite cookies. I just feel a bit separate, like I’m not clicking into place. I guess it will just take time. I’ve never been too patient, though.

Well I think that’s all I have to say for now.

I love you and I miss you,

Duke

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited as of 18 September 2019. All that was edited was a few sentences that sounded wonky and some minor additions of information.


	3. October 22, 2XXX

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the angst overflows.

Mom and Dad,

It’s been a while since I’ve written to you. I saw you both yesterday; Mom was sleeping and Dad was looking at the wall. I couldn’t grab your attention at all. I’m doing well. I’ve got only a couple of scrapes and bruises from some gang members down by the docks. I was with Red Robin trying to disrupt an arms shipment to the Falcone mob. I took out, like, fifteen gangsters! Sure, some of them were from far away with a batarang, but I took out nine of them close up. All that training is starting to pay off. I’ve even gotten compliments from some of the family on how well I’ve been doing. 

Bruce hasn’t really complimented me, but it’s not like he hands out compliments like candy on Halloween. Bruce is…hard to get close to. He is very harsh on himself, his children, and the criminals; but I’ve seen him comfort a lost child and take her back to her parents. I don’t think he realized I was there since I had been taking a break on patrol. Bruce is a very passionate person who, I think, feels very deeply for the world, but has been hurt too many times to truly show the world just how much he feels. I think a lot of the family learned this from him because we all wear masks around the public, other superheroes, and even each other. For a group of vigilantes obsessed with getting the truth, we are all fairly dishonest.

I feel like outside the family Alfred is not underappreciated, but maybe people don’t understand how much the family relies on him for things to run smoothly. Alfred doesn’t stay up as late as us, but he gets up early to prepare breakfast for everyone and to make sure everyone is awake when they need to be. This family wouldn’t even exist without Alfred. Bruce, for all his training, can’t really cook at all. Everything runs well because Alfred is doing all the behind-the-scenes work. Of course, we all get assigned chores to do, and we’re responsible for our own space. But Alfred makes sure that everyone eats, showers, and stays relatively healthy. Bruce would have crippled himself a long time ago if Alfred wasn’t here to make him rest and take time for injuries to heal.

Okay, enough sappy stuff. 

Like I said before, I’ve been doing well with my training. I’m still not winning when I spar with the others, but at least I’m lasting longer against them. Tim approached me last week about starting a poison and toxin resistance regimen. He warned me that it would make me more resistant to pain killers and other helpful drugs also. But it may save my life if I get injured with a poisoned blade. I’ll probably have a mild fever until my body becomes used to the poison, and from there, I’ll hopefully build up a bit of a tolerance. I asked Tim why I wasn’t immediately put on the regimen since it sounds pretty important. Tim stated that they wanted me to have the full effects of the pain killers for awhile until I built up a higher pain tolerance. I guess that’s sweet; they didn’t want me to be in any pain.

I’ve not been in too much physical pain. I’ve woken up sore as hell and hobbling, but that usually goes away after my muscles get used to moving again. Dick’s stretching and hot baths work wonders. I now understand why girls have full on monologues about bath salts. Those things are heaven on earth. I’ve almost fallen asleep a couple times in the tub when I first used bath salts because of how relaxed my body was. I’ve since learned to set a timer on my phone to go off every ten minutes when I use them. I don’t want my cause of death to be drowning in a tub filled with bath salts.

I…have been avoiding writing to you lately. Something happened recently that kind of messed me up. I was working with Batman to capture Mad Hatter, but we arrived too late to save the girl he had captured to be his Alice. She…her name was Cindy Whitcomb. She was the same age as me; I had previously gone to school with her. She was in my class in fifth grade. I…we were just a few minutes late. Her body was still warm. I thought she was just maybe unconscious before I tried to find her pulse. It was awful. I froze and had to be pushed out of the way of a bullet by Batman.

~~How do you~~ I don’t know how to feel. I’m frustrated with myself and sad because I wasn’t able to save her, but it’s not like I… previously, the Joker had already killed people before we caught him. This shouldn’t be new, and Joker’s death toll was so much higher than a single person. _So why are my hands shaking so much?!_ I didn’t even know Cindy that well. After seventh grade, I got kicked out of the middle school we both went to and never saw her again. Why does my heart feel like it will stutter to a stop every other beat? ~~I~~ You both have been taken from me. Probably forever by the Joker. So why does the death of a girl I hardly know affect me so much? Is it because there is no possibility for her to come back? Is it because she’s my own age? Is it because she wasn’t some statistic I read about in the reports from after the case or saw on the news? Is it some combination of these things? I don’t know. I don’t really want to know. All I know is that once more I failed to protect someone; I once more failed to save someone. I don’t understand why people like Mad Hatter and the Joker kill people, people who have done nothing to them or someone they care about. _Why are they even allowed to live after the number of lives they’ve taken?_ I don’t get it.

I should talk to someone in the family about this. Dick is the most open about it. He’ll probably listen while hugging me and let me cry for a bit on him. I don’t want to seem weak, though. I’ve never thought of myself as a prideful person, but approaching someone about this just makes me feel vulnerable. You wouldn’t believe how hard it was for me to talk to him about my death fears. I couldn’t even really look him in the eye, and this seems almost a thousand times harder. And this time, I don’t even know how to put my thoughts and feelings into words. Cass is right; words are hard.

I want to sleep for a week. I want to not feel for month. I’m just so mentally and emotionally exhausted right now. I think Bruce knows this because he’s been cutting back on my patrols. My head’s not really in the right place to go beat up thugs, but it does relieve a bit of stress.

I miss you and I love you,

Duke

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to those who have left kudos and comments. 
> 
> I really enjoyed writing this but I thought of it as only having three chapters so I'm sorry if it ended abruptly with no real conclusion. I always have sucked at them.
> 
> In this chapter I tried to show that Duke is jumping from topic to topic, trying to avoid talking about Cindy. I hope that showed through my writing, and didn't look too messy.
> 
> Edited as of 18 September 2019. I fixed some grammar errors and added some words and formatting. But there are no major changes.


End file.
